“Is fate playing a joke on your mother and me?” he concluded the letter.
Thirty years ago Thach and his wife moved their family from a remote area to a town in Nghe An Province with one goal: to provide education to their children. Now all their children hold university degrees and have stable jobs. While their two sons married over a decade ago, their daughters, aged 34 and 31, show no interest in marriage.
Thach says that as he enters the later stages of life, material things like wealth and a large house no longer concern him; all he wishes is to see his daughters settle down. His wife, Hoa, 65, shares the same worry. It is not fear of them staying single forever but a desire for them to find a lifelong partner. “My husband and I will die eventually. No matter how much the four of them love each other, it will never compare to having a spouse.”
Thach and Hoa’s concerns are shared by many Vietnamese parents facing a growing tension between traditional expectations of marrying before 30 and the modern trend of prioritizing personal freedom.
In recent years the average age of marriage in Vietnam has steadily increased: It was 24.1 years in 1999, 25.2 in 2019 and reaching 27.2 in 2023. In HCMC, the average age has surpassed 30. Staying single, marrying later or opting for a DINK (dual income, no kids) lifestyle is becoming common. Yet many parents still swear “My children can only find true happiness once they are married.”
Sociology professor Nguyen Huu Minh, in a 2022 article published in the “Vietnam Social Sciences” journal, noted a fundamental shift in how Vietnamese people choose their life partners. Parents’ influence over their children’s marriage decisions has significantly declined, he wrote, saying only 4% let their parents decide, 14% consult with their parents who then make the final decision, 69% choose their partner and then seek their parents’ blessing, and 13% make the decision entirely on their own.
“Young people are less dependent on their families and have more autonomy. Individual preferences now outweigh family or lineage considerations in marriage.”
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A Vietnamese bride in wedding dress. Illustration by Pexels |
At a discussion in HCMC on Oct. 11 on late marriages and the city’s declining birth rate, many parents voiced their concerns. One mother lamented that her 26-year-old daughter had just announced plans to study for a master’s degree abroad. “If she plans to pursue further studies, when will she get married and have children?” she asked anxiously.
According to sociologist and psychologist Dr. Pham Thi Thuy, there are three main reasons why parents feel this way. First, Vietnamese culture places a heavy emphasis on parents only being at peace once their children are married, with many viewing their child’s single status as their own failure.
“A child’s marriage thus becomes a measure of whether parents have fulfilled their responsibilities.” Second, many parents want grandchildren while they are still healthy enough to help raise them, she says. “Marriage should follow the children’s plans, but it is often forced to fit their parents’ ‘schedule.’”
Third, a generational gap has widened. Parents who grew up in difficult times see marriage as a necessity, while their children, having been raised in better conditions, have more freedom to pursue careers, interests and broaden their horizons, she points out. Late or no marriage at all has thus become a growing trend, she says.
Ngoc Lan, 60, of Thai Binh Province says that for the last five Tet (Lunar New Year) holidays she and her husband have been telling their son, “Next year you must bring home a wife.” Their son, now nearly 40, shows no interest in marriage. Lan, once proud of her son’s overseas education and PhD, now sometimes regrets letting him “study too much.”
Despite arranging several matchmaking sessions for their son, they have had no success. Once she set up a date with a girl from their village who worked near his office in Hanoi, but on the day of the date he went to play football and forgot. “At your age we should be enjoying peace, but instead, we are worrying ourselves to death,” she angrily scolded him once over the phone.
“My life is none of your concern,” he replied and hung up.
For nearly a decade Thach has raised 50 chickens and two pigs each year, hoping to use them for his children’s weddings. But his dream remains unfulfilled. His wife has visited countless temples to pray for their children’s marriage prospects and performed rituals to “cut off spiritual attachments” believed to interfere with their ability to find love, but no son-in-law has appeared.
One of his daughters confides that her parents often pressure her with hurtful comments. What pains her more is seeing them scrimp on expenses to save for her dowry. She has resolved to marry if she finds the right partner. “Not marrying will be unfair to my parents, but marrying someone incompatible and being unhappy will be unfair to myself.”
Delving into parents’ psychology, expert La Linh Nga explains it is dictated by traditional village culture and they acutely feel societal pressure. Even today most parents view marriage as the path to happiness, stability and fulfillment. After building a career, the next step is settling down, goes the logic.
When children delay marriage, it is thus natural for parents to feel anxious. Their anxiety grows and they feel left behind as they attend others’ weddings and celebrations. Some parents respond by constantly nagging and interfering in their children’s lives, creating family tension. “Worse yet, after a lifetime of hard work, some parents, who should be enjoying retirement, fall ill from worrying about their children’s marriage,” Nga notes.
Thuy says changing the dynamic between parents and children is difficult. “Whether parents and children can find common ground on marriage depends on how many realize that giving their children freedom is also a way to liberate themselves.”
After a three-month “cold war,” Lan and her son finally reached an understanding. During a family gathering, her son candidly told his parents, “Marriage is my business. Please let me decide for myself.”
“I came to my senses during that time,” Lan reflects. “Now, I just live for myself. Whether or not my son gets married no longer matters to me.”
However, Thach and his wife have yet to fully let go. Whenever someone advises them to “live happily and enjoy time with their children and grandchildren,” they can only sigh. “We have sacrificed our whole lives for our children, and now the only thing left is to see them married, but we are still to see that fulfilled.”
